


and another thing

by 2manyboys



Series: where the acres grow [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mission Fic, Post-Canon, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 07:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25467073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2manyboys/pseuds/2manyboys
Summary: Andy can tell Copley intends to give them an easy job, something simple to help erase that mess at Merrick from their collective memory, the kind of thing that he probably considers good practice for the team, having added one member and lost another. She’s been around long enough to know the simplest jobs can still get ugly.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: where the acres grow [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1846651
Comments: 127
Kudos: 730





	1. Affirmed

Andy can tell Copley intends to give them an easy job, something simple to help erase that mess at Merrick from their collective memory, the kind of thing that he probably considers good practice for the team, having added one member and lost another. She’s been around long enough to know the simplest jobs can still get ugly.

“There’s a rock, a meteorite, housed in a small town museum in Massachusetts. It’s composed of one of the most valuable metals in the world.” Copley begins his briefing over speaker phone. Andy, Nile, Nicky and Joe are sitting at the rickety table in their current safe house, card game abandoned, dirty plates piled up in the sink. Copley takes a deep breath, like he’s practiced this speech in the mirror, and shuffles some papers. 

“You want us to steal it?” Joe asks, taking the iPad Nile passes to him and flicking through photos of the outside of the museum and the frankly unremarkable rock. “What for? Hell Copley, how has it not already been stolen?” 

“I don’t want you to- You know, this really isn’t ideal.” Copley says, and Andy can picture him pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. If one interruption is enough to have him frustrated, he’s gonna have a rough time working with this team. “If you tell me where you are, I can come and-” 

“Not happening.” Andy says, firm. If this is a practice run they ought to treat it that way, there’s going to be plenty of times they can’t meet in person. Copley may like to create elaborate physical presentations - honestly, she almost set fire to the evidence of their ‘good deeds’ last time they were in his office, regardless of the look of wonder etched on her team’s faces, regardless of Nile calling it ‘unhackable, boss’, it is an unforgivably stupid paper trail - but they won’t drop everything to meet with him or give up a safehouse location unless they have to. He’s an ally, but a new one, untested. “Just tell us the job.”

“Right, well, I don’t want you to steal it, I want you to prevent its theft.” Copley says, and this time when Joe makes a disagreeable sound Copley just keeps on talking. Maybe he can learn. “The meteorite contains a metal that, perhaps obviously, isn’t often found on Earth. It’s also being used for experimental alloys that enhance the output capabilities of-” 

“Uh, Copley, you’ve lost the old folks.” Nile cuts in. 

He takes it in stride, “It’s valuable for electronics, the kind they use for satellite communications and missile strikes, so it’s valuable to government defense contractors. Which means-” 

“They’ll kill for it.” Andy supplies, taking the iPad from Joe. He has to show her how to zoom in and out.

“Precisely.” Copley says, sounding more sure of himself now. “The meteorite fell on farm land in the area somewhere between two hundred and a hundred and fifty years ago. Until the town raised money for a museum it was a tourist attraction that they kept in somebody’s barn or in the middle of a corn maze.” 

Nicky laughs into his glass of wine, but Andy’s concerns are growing. They shouldn’t underestimate this challenge, the size of the thing alone makes it seem like a tractor is the only reasonable way to transport it. Stealing it won’t be easy, somebody wants it bad.

“The museum was operating without computers for the past twenty five years. It was only recently, when their insurance agency demanded an updated inventory to continue coverage - not for theft mind you, for fire - that they hired a graduate student to create digital records on everything in the collection.” Copley continues. 

“How recently?” Andy says, peering at the building in question. It can’t be more than three rooms, a single floor. 

“The record for the meteorite was posted to the online catalog just before we met in Morocco, with verification of authenticity. Somewhat sketchy and rushed, of course, but enough to make it worth stealing. I thought it would take longer for the contractors to catch wind of it, but it’s going down in three days.”

“How do you know?” Nile asks, straight to the point. Andy appreciates her instincts.

“I’m the one who first put the rock on their radar.” Copley says, “They hired me to track down potential targets using newspaper archives and local legends, things like that. Similar to how I found you. Before recently I couldn't be sure this was a target; they never sent anyone to verify it was real because it was too low on their list of priorities. Something’s made them start to go on the offensive, I don’t know what but it can’t be good. They asked if I’d put an extraction team together and I said no.” 

“We’re just supposed to believe that?” Joe says, looking askance at the phone. “If you just want your mess cleaned up you could easily play both sides here, see who kills who.” 

“Except they can’t kill _you_ , can they? Eventually you’ll have to trust me.” Copley argues, and Joe just rolls his eyes. He mouths ‘not likely’ at Andy, who grins, sharp. 

Copley’s voice takes on an edge of desperation. “They’re going to steal it and they’re going to kill or pay off anyone who gets in their way. They’re going to cover it up and then they’re going to break it apart for weapons tech. If I can’t convince you that I’m sick and tired of this shit, I don’t know how I’ll convince you of anything! I know it’s not big or- or world saving, but… you can do it, you can make a difference here.” 

There’s a long moment of silence, Andy passes the iPad back to Nile and stands up from the table, decisive. “We’ll take the job, Copley. Get us dossiers on who you think they’ll use. Nile will evaluate security, Joe and Nicky’ll get supplies, and I’ll handle travel plans. Questions?” Andy says, looking at each of them in turn. 

“No boss.” says Joe, a little sullen. Nicky simply raises his glass at her before downing the rest. Nile is grinning, holding back excitement. Though Andy still feels that same trepidation, resisting the thought of ‘how hard could this be?’, she finds herself grinning back.

* * *

The plane they take this time is decidedly not nice. There’s no TV, there’s only four seats, and the rest of the space beyond them is taken up by enormous white coolers from floor to ceiling, strapped in tight.

“Tell me we’re not flying Drug Runner Airlines again.” Nile says, stopping just inside the door. Nicky almost runs right into her, propelled forward by Joe’s hand on the small of his back. He peeks over her shoulder, unconcerned about being sandwiched between them on the metal stairs. 

“That’s not drugs, it’s semen.” Nicky says, reading the labels. “From horses, fast or strong enough that someone is paying for their offspring without caring about official channels and bloodlines.”

The labels look like strings of nonsense words to Nile, racehorse names she guesses. She keeps moving into the plane and claims the seat beside Andy, insisting, “That is _not_ better.” 

It’s freezing inside, she's suddenly glad for the puffy black coat Nicky and Joe bought for her, for them all, the night before, which previously seemed utterly unnecessary. It is July after all.

“It’s not our business.” Andy says, her tone final. She looks tiny in the window seat, swallowed up by her own coat, arms crossed and sunglasses on. 

“I’m just saying, if this plane goes down it better be over the ocean because that’s disgusting.” Nile says anyway. At least it makes Joe and Nicky crack up. There’s a long moment of silence as they collectively realize if the plane goes down Andy’s going down with it. 

These moments are really starting to annoy Andy.

“Just forget it's there. Tell us what you know about the security.” Andy says. Sometimes that’s all it takes to refocus them. 

“A moment, boss.” Nicky says, tossing gear up into a net tethered to the ceiling above their seats as Joe hands it in to him. It’s not nearly as many guns as Nile expected, although she can’t tell what’s in the nondescript black duffle bags. The two men work in tandem for a few minutes, so effectively that Nile knows her help isn’t needed. 

“Last one.” Joe says, both to Nicky and their pilot, who’s still smoking down by the nose of the plane. They flip him off in response.

Joe carries in something that even wrapped and covered can only be Nicky’s sword. He sinks playfully down to one knee when Nicky turns around for it, raising it up in his open palms, head bent. Something about the pose reminds Nile that they’re ancient, that Joe has done this before, probably in a far more serious setting. She hears him mutter something but can’t pick out the words. Nicky reaches down to lift his chin until their eyes meet, and he says something back. For a long moment they just look at each other, Nicky’s thumb rubbing Joe’s lower lip. 

The sudden slam of the plane door closing snaps them out of it. Nicky stashes his sword up with the rest of the gear and gestures for Joe to take the window seat. When Nile turns to Andy for any kind of explanation for what just happened, she finds Andy’s dozing against the tiny window, eyes closed behind her sunglasses. 

It isn’t until they’re up in the air that Andy says, “So. Security?” 

“Not much to report, boss. They have one camera pointed at the front door and it records to a tape that has to be changed every week.” Nile says. She pauses, a little disgusted, and adds, “That's if they remember to turn it on in the morning.” 

Joe whistles a long note, impressed by just how low the bar is, and Andy gestures for her to continue. 

“The museum itself is in the main intersection of town, on one side is town hall, across the street on the other side is the local library. Across the other street, in front, is an old schoolhouse, now home to a few local businesses, offices, and a dentist. Behind the museum is… just a big field of corn.”

Nicky looks like he wants to laugh, but asks, “Which of those is tallest?” 

“The library has three floors and a tiny attic room with a window pointing at the museum.” Nile says, anticipating their need for a sniper’s post. She takes a deep breath, waiting to see if anybody else has questions and building up to this next part. “Anyway, there might be another problem. This town really only gets white tourists, usually around maple syrup season. Me and Joe, we’ll draw attention if we just go wandering in.”

Andy nods, slowly, like she’s recalculating something. “We can use that, make them uncomfortable, get them to watch you while we install some security of our own.” If Copley’s estimates are right, they’ll have a day or two before the stealth team moves in, but if it was her extraction team she’d send someone to scout ahead and set up a base overlooking the building. In the past, that would have been Booker. 

“If you had to pick a secondary spot for a sniper, what would it be?” Joe asks, picking up on Andy’s thoughts. He leans around Nicky, hand on his thigh. 

Nile thinks about it for a minute, glancing through the images she took off google maps on her phone. “Probably the old schoolhouse, but there’s no hiding spaces. You’d have to make one of the two businesses on the second floor let you in and leave you unsupervised. Or break in after hours and leave no trace.”

“That's our first priority.” Andy says, “We need to find out where the other team’s scout is positioned, because they either have one or they’re idiots, and we should try to do it without tipping him off. Then we can go in and juice up the museum’s defenses, either charm the staff or get them suspicious, I don’t care which. When the extraction team makes their move we counter it.”

“One thing.” Nile says. She’s been nodding along to the plan, but there’s still the looming question of after. “We stop them this time, what’s stopping them from trying again?”

“They’ll be dead.” Andy says, unimpressed. 

“Not those exact guys, but the weapons manufacturers, the suppliers.” Nile presses, “They won’t just give up on something worth this much.”

Joe and Nicky exchange a glance and Nicky says, “We thought about replacing the meteorite with a decoy, but anything believable would take too long to make or buy.”

“Yeah,” Joe says, “because it’s enormous. It would take six guys to carry it out. No way a half-decent scout wouldn’t see the swap go down.”

“So our best case scenario is… what?” Nile asks, sagging against the plane seat like she’s disappointed in them.

“We’re tipping the scales on their cost-benefit calculations.” Andy says, annoyance seeping into her tone. “This extraction won’t have been cheap, if it fails their next move is to try and buy the thing. They’ll low ball the museum, count on them not knowing its worth or needing the money, but Copley is already alerting the research community, the rock scientist people-“

“Geologists, boss.” Joe supplies, grinning.

“Yeah. Word gets around and suddenly it’s impossible to acquire the thing or cover up its theft.” Andy finishes. 

“We’re keeping the wolves at bay.” Nicky says, in that quiet way of his, shooting Nile an encouraging smile. “Sometimes that’s all we can do.”

She nods, and Andy tips her head back against the airplane window, signaling the end of the discussion. Nile puts her headphones in, turning her face away from Andy and closing her eyes to the image of Nicky lifting Joe’s hand off his thigh and raising it to his mouth to kiss his knuckles, all tenderness.

* * *

Nile wakes to turbulence, dry mouth, and the soft sounds of Nicky whispering in Italian to her right. Her playlist ended about an hour ago based on the time her phone shows as she unplugs her headphones. When she turns to look she realizes Nicky is praying, bent slightly in his seat, hands clasped. 

Joe meets her gaze over Nicky’s head and smiles. “Hey kid.”

Something about the way he says it makes her think about being the new kid on this team and how the only other person who would know what that feels like is Booker. For a second she feels like she’s in Booker’s seat, like she stole it. Nile wonders if Joe used to talk like that to him, welcoming, warm. 

“C’mon,” she protests, knowing already he’s not going to buy it but feeling the need to say, “I’m twenty seven.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m almost a thousand.” Joe says, “Which makes me a kid to Andy and you a kid to me.” He points at each of them in turn. 

“How old were you, when you, y'know?” Nile asks, whispering, a glance confirming that Andy’s either still asleep or pretending to be. 

“When Nicky killed me I was thirty three.” Joe says. Nicky continues ignoring the conversation going on around him but Nile can tell he’s listening.

“What about him?” Nile says.

“He was thirty.” Joe replies.

“And when did you, I mean, how long after that did you know-“ She has trouble framing the question, but Joe lets her off the hook.

“That he was my soulmate?” Joe asks. It’s the closest to what they are to each other these days. “Not long.”

“You wanna tell me about it? We got a couple hours left on this flight.” Nile says, cajoling.

“You sure? It’s not really a bedtime story. Kind of a fairy tale, I guess, in the old school way where they’re bloody warnings for kids.”

“I’m a kid aren't I?” Nile teases, knowing she’s caught him now. “So you should tell me.”

Joe laughs. “Oh okay, now you’re a kid. Sure, I’ll tell you.”

* * *

“I saw him first. Hard not to, the way he came charging forward on horseback, shouting. I remember the heat, the sweat, the fear. It hurt to shout back but we did it anyway. It was the summer of 1099 and we were defending Jerusalem. 

My archers shot his horse down and he lost his helmet but not his sword and shield. The walls of the city were coming down around me so I pressed my advantage and jumped down after him. We were a good match, even then, even in that. 

And Nicolò… Nicolò was not this clean-shaven man you see before you. He had long hair, reddish, overgrown, and a beard to match. His eyes were the same though, they always have been, bright and piercing. 

He was a lion in chain mail, a true white knight. I… I sliced him open across the stomach, taking the first opening he gave me, but I was too close to move away. He impaled me in return, ran me straight through. To do a thing like that, to get back at me with his guts already hanging out, took a warrior’s strength. 

When we came back, the first time, the sun had gone down. It was like a bad dream, the worst dream you can imagine. Vultures circling, bodies everywhere. The scent of it, Nile… I turned away from Nicky, heaving, and he must have seen me move. We continued the cycle of killing each other and coming back, faster each time, through the night, until… 

My knife was in his back. 

I got to my feet and I saw my knife in his back and I had the first clear thought in my head since the battle started. I couldn’t kill him. It felt impossible, it was impossible. 

I thought, I can’t kill him, so what can I do? I offered him my hand. When he took it… when Nicky took my hand, that’s when I knew.”

Joe goes quiet, and Nile realizes that Nicky did too, must have a while ago. They’re both staring at him, watching Joe look down at his hands like they belong to someone else. He’d been pantomiming some of the more violent actions as he described them, eyes closed, like he was watching the memory playback. He doesn’t seem to have enjoyed the experience much.

“I didn’t know then.” Nicky says, softly. Joe looks up at him and their gaze catches and holds. 

“No?” 

“You don’t remember? We sat down together on that battlefield, the sounds of fighting echoing back to us, and I asked you if it was real.” 

“I don’t remember.” Joe says, and Nile doesn’t quite believe him but she’s not going to interrupt. “Tell Nile the rest of the story.”

* * *

Nicky turns towards her, his voice soft, “I asked ‘Is this real?’ and he said, ‘What difference does it make?’

Looking out at all the men who had fought and died that day, I was pretty angry with this response. I decided I wouldn’t speak to him and maybe if he wasn’t real he would disappear.”

Nile and Joe laugh, and Nicky shakes his head.

“SÌ, that lasted all of about a minute. He said, ‘How would it change what we do now?’ 

‘What do we do now?’ I asked, desperate for an answer. In truth, he... terrified me, with his violence and his kindness, the connection between us that I didn’t trust yet. He had shaken the beliefs I built my entire life on with a single gesture. 

But, he didn’t have an answer. ‘What else would it be?’ he asked instead, and I could feel him looking at me. ‘If it’s not real?’ 

‘A dream, or a test.’ I said. 

‘Testing what?’ He replied. The sun was rising again. We couldn’t stay there. I stood on shaky legs and turned, letting him see that the anger, the righteousness, had bled out of me. That he had bled it out of me. I offered him my hand. 

We started walking, keeping each other going until the sun once again began to set. It still didn’t feel real, I suppose I was in shock. Finally we settled down, made camp, I don’t remember where or how, these details were the furthest thing from my mind. 

‘I would have been honored.’ Yusuf said to me, because by then I knew his name, ‘To die by your hand.’ 

‘Don’t say that.’ I said back, stung and not sure why at first. It should have been a compliment, the greatest compliment between enemies. He startled me with the realization that we weren’t anymore, you see? 

We argued after that. It was stupid, pointless, but not violent. We never reached for our swords. I remember saying, ‘This isn’t... right. This doesn’t feel right.’ 

And Yusuf said to me: ‘What did you think it would feel like?’ 

I didn’t know. I didn’t think I would be around to feel it.”

Nicky breaks off as they feel the plane begin to descend and Andy shifts against the window. 

“I remember now.” Joe says, matching Nicky’s tone, soft and reverent. 

“We’ll have to save the rest for the trip back.” Nicky says. He seems to consciously relax, taking deep breaths in and out. The look Joe gives him makes Nile look away, it’s too much, pure devotion. 

Andy sighs and stretches with a huge yawn, shattering the moment before she says, “Alright, let’s go over cover stories.”


	2. Justify

By the time they land and stumble off the tiny icebox of the plane (whose contents Nile vows to never think about again) she’s starving. Joe hands her a water bottle, shows her the most effective way to squish her puffy coat into a tiny roll, and then he and Nicky start unloading the gear. It’s hot on the runway, sunny in a way that feels incredible. Nile turns once in a circle, arms extended, feeling that warmth flow back into her fingers and appreciating the mountains reaching up around them on all sides. It’s a lot of green. 

Andy seems to be doing the same thing, with less nature appreciation and more checking for enemy combatants. She steps closer to Nile, lowers her voice, and says, “Sorry about Nicky and Joe. They haven’t had a lot of opportunities to tell their story, I think they got a little…”

“What?” Nile asks, not exactly asking what Andy means as much as why she’s saying it. She doesn’t know what Andy thinks she has to apologize for. 

Andy shifts, defensive. Out of her own puffy coat she’s back to looking larger-than-life, biceps intimidating when she crosses her arms like that. “You’ve already seen enough of death to know it’s not that poetic. They forget about the pain, the piss and shit of it, because it’s them.” 

Nile shrugs. “It’s not that deep, they’re in love.”

“Yeah.” Andy agrees, looking tired all of a sudden. “They are. That’s why we’re here to hike and they’re here for their honeymoon.” 

“We went over it five seconds ago, I’m not going to forget.” Nile replies, annoyed, and goes to join the boys as they start the Tetris game of fitting things into the two rental cars. How Andy got them here, waiting by the runway of the smallest airport Nile’s ever seen, she doesn’t ask. Their plane is trundling away and taking off again as soon as they’ve unloaded; Joe flips the pilot off in cheerful goodbye.

Nicky and Joe get a Jeep with no roof, just a metal frame, in deference to the summer heat and, she guesses, for the boyish glee it brings out in the men. As they drive away she sees Joe stick both hands up through the bars like he’s on a rollercoaster, whooping. 

Nile and Andy get a Subaru. They’re not on the road long before she realizes it fits in almost too well, to the point where they might have trouble finding it in parking lots.

They meet back up at a bed and breakfast where they’re booked for three nights. It’s in the next town over, about twenty minutes from the museum. Nicky and Joe check in first, hamming it up enough that the owner of the place is still looking flushed an hour later when Nile and Andy arrive. They did some scouting of their own, pretending to get lost and turn around at a donut place near the town square so Nile could take photos with her phone, holding it up in a classic ‘searching for bars’ motion that felt stupid the whole time. (“You know that doesn’t work, right Andy?” “It doesn’t?”) Then they stopped at a liquor store for the obvious. Then Nile made them stop for pizza. They don’t talk much during these errands, both of them turning over the plan in their minds.

The owner of the B&B is an older woman with long hair braided down her back, wearing a simple linen dress. She introduces herself as Jean, but her name tag says ‘Mrs. Szypszak’. She seems slightly frazzled as she confirms their information with Andy, commenting on the heat and the strangeness of two last-minute cancellations. That’s Andy’s handiwork again, Nile knows without being told, making sure they’re the only people staying in the house and eating the cost of all four rooms. 

“That is strange.” Andy agrees, smiling sympathetically. “We were looking forward to talking at breakfast too, if anybody else wakes up as early as we do.” 

“Not likely from the other guests I’m afraid.” Mrs. Szypszak says, embarrassed enough by whatever that might imply to turn away from them, ushering them to follow her up the stairs to their room and pressing keys into Andy’s hand with her well-wishes, saying breakfast will be ready at 7. 

The room is nice, two twin beds and a private bathroom, big bay windows. It looks like it’s trying very hard not to seem like a dorm room or a hotel, but all that really leaves is something that reminds Nile too much of the room she used to share with her brother when they were both too old for that to be comfortable. 

The minute Copley sends over the dossiers, Andy and Nile sneak into Nicky and Joe’s room. 

Nicky and Joe’s room is _hilarious_ , there’s no other word for it. The bed is enormous and there’s sheer curtains hanging from the elaborate wooden frame that probably shouldn’t remind her of mosquito netting but does. The walls are lavender and the art is eclectic and abundant, all overburdened bouquets and dogs running across landscapes. Nile can’t stop laughing, claiming a spot on a loveseat in the corner that squeaks loudly whenever she moves.

“Alright, what did you two do to Mrs. Szypszak?” Andy asks when the door clicks shut, sitting on the floor with her back against it like she’s the first line of defence and tearing a beer off the six pack she brought with her. 

“Nicky spoke to her in Polish.” Joe accuses, pointing at him. He’s in the bathroom, washing his face and checking out the little gift basket in there.

Nicky narrows his eyes. “Joe would not stop touching me, the entire check-in _and_ tour-“

“You guys got a tour?” Nile asks.

“We’re supposed to be newlyweds!” Joe argues.

“- _and_ he asked what her favorite flowers were so we could pick some up tomorrow.” Nicky finishes, as if he hadn’t been interrupted. He points back at Joe, “You are an incorrigible flirt.”

“Me! How soon we forget about the Polish, hmm, _kochanie_?” Joe says. He notices something in the basket and holds it up to Nicky, waggling his eyebrows. It’s definitely lube. 

“They’ve sunk too far into their roles.” Nile stage whispers to Andy, who’s already on her second beer.

“As long as they stuck to them, Mr. and Mr. Jones.” Andy says, tossing a beer to Joe as he comes out of the bathroom, done with his snooping. Nile realizes first that he was probably checking for bugs and second that she’s never seen him barefoot before. It’s strangely vulnerable.

“We did, boss.” Joe assures Andy, catching the beer with his left hand. It makes a loud ‘click’ sound as it smacks against his wedding ring. Nile spots a simple silver band on Nicky’s hand too, the kind that’s understated but somehow still obviously expensive. “Nicky’s not wrong about the touching.”

Andy rolls her eyes. “Let’s see who Copley thinks we’re up against, okay? Then you can get back to your touching.”

Nile has the iPad, she’s learned fast not to trust Andy with it. “Copley sent a lot of options, all the people he would have tried to bring into a job like this. He says he isn’t sure who among them isn’t doing something else, if he started asking around it would give us away.”

“Look through them and see who might be a scout.” Nicky suggests. He’s unpacking a duffle bag and sorting the contents out onto the bed; neutral colored clothes, pistols, silencers, toothbrushes.

They fall into companionable silence, not even Joe joining her on the squeaky loveseat and looking over her shoulder is distracting. It takes her fifteen minutes or so to get a handle on the options, but eventually she turns the screen around to face Andy, showing a grainy image cut from some security tape of what looks to be a fifteen year old kid with a sniper rifle sticking out of their JanSport, “Okay, who the hell is this? Baby driver?” 

“Oh, him.” Andy says, dismissive. “Goes by Dante, but that’s not his name. Not as young as he looks either.” 

“Like us, boss.” Nicky says, teasing. 

“ _Not_ like us, like plastic surgery and who knows what else.” Andy says. “He’s an option. Anybody else?” 

“Yeah, there’s a few. A pair of fraternal twins and the most boring looking man I’ve ever seen.” Nile flips through to their pictures. Andy nods along. “Not sure how much of an edge this will give us though, it’s not like Copley knows they’re deathly allergic to shrimp or whatever.” 

Joe cracks up, probably imagining a shrimp fight. “It still helps. The less surprises the better.” 

“What about muscle?” Nicky asks. He’s got three piles together on the bed and comes over to the loveseat too, not that there’s space for him to sit on it. Nile holds the iPad up to him and he takes it. 

“The rest are mostly guns-for-hire types, ex-special forces and ex-private security, all of them.” Nile says.

Andy looks grim. “So all these people are proven killers. This is looking less like an extraction and more like a smash and grab.”

“What’s the difference?” Nile asks, because sometimes it helps them all if she asks the obvious questions. 

“They aren’t paid to think much, that can make them very dangerous. If things go wrong they just start shooting.” Nicky says, frowning as he tilts the screen towards Joe. A man with a scar along the side of his face, hairline to jawline, smirks in his mug shot. Joe gives a theatrical little shudder. 

“There’s tech experts in here too, but I’m not sure why they’d be needed on a job like this.” Nile says, taking the iPad back from Nicky. Now Joe and Nicky are both looking over her shoulders, they smell like the same shampoo and laundry detergent. 

Andy stifles a yawn into her elbow and climbs to her feet. “Sometimes the guy who takes the shot and the guy who’s on the ground need somebody to tell them to do it.” 

Nicky moves back to the bed and brings one of the piles of folded clothes with at least two guns in the middle, toiletries and an earpiece on top, over to Andy. He points to a pair of hiking boots by the door and says, “See you at breakfast?” 

“No, we're moving up the timetable if that’s who we’re up against. Meet you bright and early and don’t get caught leaving. Mrs. Szypszak seemed to think you two would be sleeping in for some reason.” Andy says, leaning in to Nicky’s hug and stooping to gather the shoes. “Follow me in five, Nile.” She’s slipping back down the hallway without a sound. 

“So,” Nile says, looking down at the guy with the scar, “Who’s this?” 

* * *

Later, when they’ve pulled the curtains closed and showered and settled into surprisingly comfortable beds, Nile stares up at the ceiling and asks, “What were you trying to tell me earlier?” 

“When?” Andy says.

“When we got off the plane.” 

“You picked up on that huh?” 

“You were being pretty weird.” Nile insists.

It takes a minute for Andy to get her thoughts together. Finally she sighs, turns to face Nile and says, “I don’t want you to think that the way it happened for them is the only way it can happen. I wanted you to know that you _can_ find love in this life. Not to say it won’t be hard, won’t hurt at the end, but…” 

“But what?” 

“But it’s still real. And, unlike Nicky and Joe, you’ll only see them die once, if you’re lucky.” 

Nile thinks about that and then tries hard not to anymore. “Pretty depressing pep talk, boss.” 

“Go to sleep, kid. We have work tomorrow.” Andy says, laughing, turning away. 

* * *

“Hey Nicky.” Joe whispers into the back of his neck. He can tell Nicky’s not asleep. They might not get to sleep at all in this room, the bed is positioned with the door on one side and windows on the other. Joe’s spooned behind Nicky but there’s no way to secure his own back and it makes him uneasy. They would have moved the bed but their host would definitely think something was up then.

“What, habibi?” Nicky whispers back. 

“I can't believe she showed you how to use the coffee maker.” Joe says. 

They break down in giggles. 

“She could have been showing you, you were plastered against me like a jealous… jellyfish.”

“Aw, I was aiming for horny husband. And she wasn’t looking at me.”

“How would you know? You weren’t looking at her.”

“Of course I wasn’t. I’m always looking at you.”

* * *

Nobody has breakfast at the communal dining table that morning. They don’t feel too guilty about standing-up their host though, they have a job to do. Nile and Andy leave a note with way too many exclamation points and smiley faces saying they’ve left early to watch the sunrise from a mountain nearby. Really, they’ve left early with Nicky and Joe, who sneak out through the window of their room and make it to the ground with just one broken leg between them, healed before they slide into the backseat of the Subaru. They left the Jeep at the B&B and, perhaps unnecessarily, a ‘do not disturb’ sign outside of their room. 

Nile and Joe are dressed like sporty tourists, him in cargo shorts, a t-shirt, and backwards cap, her in denim cutoffs and a tank top layered over her sports bra, both of them in tan combat boots. Nile also has a backpack that looks like it’s been rolled down a mountain already (“We ran it over a few times.” Nicky admits.) with their bugs and cameras inside. She’s otherwise unarmed, unarmored, and unhappy about it. Blending in sucks.

Nicky looks the most like he’s about to fuck shit up, jeans and a hoodie over a tactical vest, hood already pulled up over his head. His gear is stowed away in a guitar case currently spread across his and Joe’s laps in the back seat. They’re holding hands on top of it, Joe’s wearing both their wedding rings now. 

Andy, in contrast, looks so much like an FBI agent from TV that it’s kind of freaking Nile out. Suit, sunglasses, obvious body armor, barely concealed shoulder holster with a gun on both sides, ugly shoes, all of it. 

“That’s really what they look like.” Joe explains, shrugging. “They think it’s cool. A lot of people let you do whatever you want in this country if you look like that and flash a badge.”

Andy goes over the revised plan on the drive over while everyone eats granola bars like they’re heading to soccer practice rather than preventing major theft and potential murder. 

“Nicky will go to the library and set up there if he can, or make a plan for how to do it after dark if there’s resistance. Try to get your library card if you have to. You remember your fake address?” 

“Yes, boss.” Nicky says.

“Good. Nile and Joe will check out the museum. Verify their security is shit, get a read on the employees and the space, create an opportunity to install our tech. Speak up on comms if there’s an issue, don’t hesitate to go back to the car if something’s not right. Watch each other’s backs.” 

“I still think somebody should be watching yours.” Nile says. She’s been against this particular division of the team since it occurred to her that Andy was leaning this way. Andy ignores her protest once again. 

“I’m going into the old school house and getting up to the top floor. What I do next depends on who’s up there.” She cracks her knuckles. 

“Stay on comms.” Nile says, parroting her order back at her. Andy nods and parks the car on a side street, swapping the plates before they all head towards the town square.

The walk over is quiet, Nicky and Joe drifting apart slowly with one last look and a nod. At some point Nile turns around expecting to see Andy and finds her gone, disappeared through somebody’s lawn or something, taking a different route. Joe moves closer to her, slinging an arm around Nile’s shoulders and sighing, “It’s way too early for this, why does this museum open at 6am?”

“It’s part of their schtick, since the whole theme is the history of farming in the area. The real farmers are probably hard at work by now.” Nile says, wondering who the last person she let this close was, before Andy and the rest. Probably Dizzy. That thought hurts. “Also, they probably like closing at 2pm.” 

They slow down wordlessly to watch Nicky walk away and let the distance between them grow. He looks like a wandering troubadour with that guitar case, but still a little bit too much like a man on a mission. He can’t quite hide the way a thousand years of holding a sword makes him move like something dangerous.

Nile and Joe pass the town hall, all white pillars, and suddenly they’re there, in front of the museum.

“Wow.” Joe says, taking his arm off Nile’s shoulders and adjusting his hat in a way that somehow conveys incredulity, “I see it now. It’s a barn.” 

“Yupp.” Nile confirms. 

“Wow.” Joe says again. They head for the entrance. 

Nile tries to soften her game face, to keep her shoulders loose and come across like somebody really interested in farm history, whoever that person might be. It helps a little bit that the side of the double doors Joe tries to open for her is locked. Laughing at him helps her remember to breathe and relax. Maybe he did it on purpose. 

Nile ends up opening the other door for him, grinning. Using Joe’s body as a screen in front of her gives Nile the perfect opportunity to watch the expression of the person at the front desk shift from surprise to polite half-smile to genuine interest as Nile makes eye contact with them. 

It is _them_ , obvious from a prominently placed button on the front of their denim vest which reads “THEY/THEM” in black and white. Their other buttons are a lot more colorful. 

They clear their throat, straightening up from the computer in front of them, and say, “Good morning, welcome in.” 

“Hi.” says Joe, walking up to the desk. 

“Hey.” says Nile, equally awkward, somehow unprepared for small talk. She glances up and to the left, the red recording light for the security camera isn’t on. That’s both helpful and disappointing.

“I think this must be a record number of visitors for a Tuesday morning.” Says the museum employee, taking their lackluster greetings in stride, glancing between Joe and Nile with amusement, talking mostly to Nile. “The museum’s free of charge, just give a shout if I can answer any questions okay? I’m Emrys.” 

Emrys is tiny and utterly unimposing, probably a full foot shorter than Joe though it's hard to be sure while they’re sitting. Their eyes are dark, eyebrows thick, hair short and bright bubblegum pink, shaved above the ear on one side. They’re dressed like a punk, but in a laid back way that somehow makes Nile think of roller derby and poetry. 

Joe glances between them and smiles, taking the lead on the plan, “Uh, Emrys, you probably don’t love when this is the first question visitors ask but, do you have a bathroom?” 

Emrys doesn’t quite laugh. “Yeah, I mean, not technically a public one but what do I care, y’know? Not like they’re paying me. It’s back there, second door behind me on the left, the code is 1-2-3-4.” 

“Thank you.” Joe says. He lifts the backpack off Nile with casualness so deliberate she barely realizes he’s doing it til the weight is lifted off her and he’s gone. Emrys doesn’t seem to notice, quirking a brow at Nile instead when it’s clear she isn’t walking away.

“So, uh, they really don’t pay you?” Nile asks, keeping their attention on her. 

“They really don’t.” Emrys says, “I’m doing this for the credits and the experience; turns out they don’t give you a masters degree without both.”

“Oh.” Nile says, shifting from foot to foot. “Cool. You’re studying uh, history?”

“Archival science.” Emrys corrects, “History is a big part though, local history is my focus.”

“Makes sense.” Nile says, glancing around, wishing Joe would hurry up. “They should still pay you though, we all gotta make a living.”

“Yeah… So, you always get up this early?” Emrys asks. 

Joe’s voice filters through Nile’s earpiece, saying, “Ooh, say ‘not if I have a good reason to stay in bed’!” 

“What?” Nile asks. 

“What the fuck are you talking about Joe?” Andy says, obviously only hearing half the conversation.

“Just asking if you’re an early bird. It’s not like you’re beating the rush around here.” Emrys says. 

“Oh, um. Yeah, mostly in town to hike, but my buddy wanted to see um,-” 

“She’s crashing and burning, boss.” Joe laughs over the comms. “Can’t say I’ve ever been this happy to be considered the least attractive option by a mark though. It’s fun!”

“I don’t really know what. I just felt bad that his husband wouldn’t come with him so I said I’d tag along.” Nile says, struggling to ignore Joe. “I’m hoping we get coffee next.” 

“Oh, gotcha.” Emrys‘ smile smooths over like lack of caffeine explains all of Nile’s awkwardness. They gesture vaguely to their left and say, “There’s a great café just over the river.” 

When Nile turns her head, instinctively following the gesture, she notices another visitor in the museum for the first time. It’s a big guy, facing away from her, standing way too still. She mistook him for some kind of statue before, but he’s definitely holding a cellphone now.

“Ask to get coffee together sometime.” Joe suggests. Nile can perfectly picture the way she could sell that line, leaning over the desk and smiling, but it’s just not her to flirt with a perfect stranger. 

She doesn’t even need to. By the time Nile takes out her phone and asks what the café is called and Emrys says “Haymarket, like the riot.”, Joe is coming back out of the bathroom, shooting Nile a thumbs up. 

“Thanks again, Emrys.” Joe says, walking back over to them. He lays a hand on Nile’s shoulder as he comes around the desk and gives her a gentle shake, familiar. “C’mon, we have to at least check it out now that we’re here.” He turns and walks into the museum itself without waiting. Only because she’s looking does she notice him drop a bug into the brochure holder.

Nile offers Emrys a helpless shrug and a thank you of her own and follows after him. They’re barely out of earshot, roughly equidistant between the front desk and the suspicious guy when Andy speaks up over comms again. 

“We have a problem.” She says.

“There’s two teams, aren’t there?” Nile mutters back under her breath, trying to make reaching for her ear look casual, eyes on the big guy in all black and a baseball cap - not even a Sox cap which is just lazy - knowing Joe’s watching him too. He’s definitely not actually reading about asparagus over there.

“Make that three.” Nicky says, stopping them all in their tracks. He sounds out of breath, no, angry. It’s a chilling tone from him.

“Three teams or three problems?” Joe whispers. He turns towards a series of black and white photographs, pretending to study them in detail. 

“What’s the difference?” Nicky all but growls. 

“Nicky, report.” Andy says, businesslike. 

“Someone killed the librarian and they weren’t clean about it. Assuming they are up in the snipers post we planned.” Nicky says. He waits on Andy’s call. 

“Alright. Bar the doors, take them out. Joe, I need backup across the street.”

“Aye boss.” Joe says, tapping Nile’s shoulder and pointing at what looks like a back door, a fire exit that isn’t even alarmed. She nods, and he nods back, handing her the backpack. It’s already partially unzipped, Nile can see the grip of a shotgun when she peeks inside. 

Watching Joe go, something suddenly occurs to her, “Andy, if more players on the field wasn’t your problem, what was?” 

“It’s not going down tomorrow, it’s going down _right now_.” 

“Shit.”


	3. Assault

**6:05 AM**

As Nicky approaches the library he consciously slows his steps, turning up the path to it off the sidewalk at the last second. A sign, or more accurately a laminated sheet of paper, is posted to the door, which reads “Closed for Town Meeting”. The door’s locked. Either that’s the only sign they had on hand or something fishy is going on, town meetings don’t happen at 6am. Nicky checks the lock again, he could break it open but it’d be noisy, visible from the street, and impossible to secure again later.

Moving more quickly now, taking advantage of the early hour and lack of witnesses, Nicky loops around the side of the building and finds the fire escape. He jumps up towards the brick wall and propels himself high enough that he can fling his arm out to grab for the ladder, managing to grab hold of the lowest rung and pull it down with him on the first try, relatively quietly. And Joe says he should stop watching parkour videos on YouTube. 

Nicky climbs the ladder and pulls it back up after him when he comes to the landing. He pulls the guitar case off his back and clicks it open to remove a pistol before clicking it closed and slinging the strap back over his head. Using the butt of the gun Nicky smashes the window just above the lock, unlocks it, and slides it open. Nobody comes running, so he lets himself into the second floor of the library, rolling for cover behind the nearest bookshelf, gun drawn, listening for a few seconds and hearing nothing. 

Moving slowly and as silently as possible on creaky wooden floors, checking the corners, he moves down the stairs to the first floor, back towards the front door. That’s when Nicky sees her. 

She’s been choked with her own lanyard and dragged forward across the check out desk. She’s draped over it, staring blindly down at her broken glasses on the floor. Dead. Nicky’s still taking this in when Nile, Joe, and Andy start talking in his ear. 

He listens, crouching to get a better look at the librarian’s face. She’s young, he realizes, what he thought was grey hair was artificially dyed silver, she can’t be more than thirty. The keys dangling down off her neck aren’t moving, it’s been a few minutes then. He couldn’t have saved her. The killer isn’t on this floor or the second either, he’d have seen Nicky enter. 

When Nile says they’ve got two teams on the field he shakes his head. Whoever killed the librarian has their own plan, this spot only works for _stopping_ the theft, that’s why they chose it. Someone who would kill for this vantage point must be planning to kill everyone who exits the museum until they can swoop in and take the rock for themselves. “Make that three.” Nicky says, tapping his earpiece. He’s still looking at the young woman’s body. 

“Nicky, report.” Andy says through his ear piece. Her tone of voice has the same effect on him as a slap to the knuckles. 

“Someone killed the librarian, they weren’t clean about it. Assuming they are up in the snipers post we planned.” Nicky says. He waits on Andy’s call. 

“Alright. Bar the doors, take them out. Joe, I need-“ Andy keeps talking, they all do, but Nicky lets their voices wash over him. He’s already moving, pushing a bookcase down noisily in front of the doors. Passing back by the librarian he pauses and gently takes the lanyard off her neck. “I’ll bring these right back.” He promises. 

Nicky climbs the stairs quickly, gun drawn, guitar case smacking him on the back with each step. He takes it off on the second floor by the tiny door he finds and unlocks with the librarian’s keys. Her murderer must have stopped and picked it, the idiot. The tiny door leads to a tiny staircase he has to stoop over to an uncomfortable degree to fit inside. Nicky climbs slowly, gun pointing ahead of him. He opens the hatchway door at the top fast, careless of noise, and swings the gun around faster, looking for a target. 

There’s nobody there. Just a strange portrait, a lot of dust, and several sets of what looks like cobblers tools, copper and gleaming. Overflow from the museum if he had to guess. There’s only one window and looking through it Nicky sees the problem. The angle isn’t right, either the library isn’t built straight or the museum isn’t, because he can’t quite see the entrance even from the extreme right of the room. This post would still work in a pinch but it risks letting someone escape through the corn field. Nicky guesses whoever killed the librarian couldn't risk it. They must be on the roof. 

He has to be fast and hope he has surprise on his side. Cautiously, Nicky leans his head out the window and looks up, then down. On the sidewalk he can see a spot where the straight line of the shadow cast by the roof is interrupted, jagged, by something small, innocuous. It could be a tree branch or it could be a rifle scope. He’s about to find out. 

Nicky climbs back down the tiny stairs, which are even worse that direction, and grabs the guitar case. He sets the keys down in its place, repeating his promise to himself, and hurriedly climbs back up. 

If he’s guessed wrong or doesn’t move right he’ll be pushed off the roof. Even if he makes it up to a steady spot he has to take out his target as fast as possible or he won’t be any use to the team. Nicky doesn’t stop to think about it, just briefly taps his ear piece and says, “I’m making a move on the roof.” Andy grunts her acknowledgment, or maybe she grunts at something else altogether. Either way, Nicky tucks the pistol back into his waistband and climbs outside the window, carrying the guitar case out with him one handed. He’s far too visible from the street like this. He takes a deep breath. 

In one movement Nicky slings the case up towards the spot making the shadow and grabs for the gutter on the edge of the roof with his other hand, pushing up off the window ledge hard. He hears a loud crash, promising, and manages to get both hands on the gutter. Someone swears. In the next second Nicky’s pulling himself up into the roof and ducking low to one side. A gunshot rings out. He runs towards it, tackling whoever it is _hard_ onto the shingles. 

Those shingles scrape his hands raw as he and his attacker roll once, down towards the edge, and Nicky ends up underneath someone he only gets a quick glance at. It’s Dante, the one who makes himself look young to be underestimated. Nicky grabs the back of Dante’s head, pulls it away from him and then slams their heads together as hard as he can. It hurts, puts stars in his vision, but Nicky recovers first, fast enough to roll Dante off of him, back up the roof, and to draw his gun.

He doesn’t need it. Dante doesn’t get back up before Nicky is standing over him. He only manages weak resistance to Nicky reaching down to snap his neck with one sickening crack. Later he’ll realize the guitar case hit the man’s head first, then the back of it hit the roof when he tackled him. The headbutt was the third blow within a minute. Dante may not have gotten back up regardless of the state of his neck.

Nicky finds his case caught in the gutter, more good luck, and lays down along the roof almost exactly where Dante must have been. The other man’s gear is turned over halfway across the roof. He sets up his rifle fast, despite the awkward angle, fast enough to cover Andy as she’s racing across the street from the old schoolhouse to the museum, blazer abandoned, formerly white blouse soaked in blood. Two guys make their way out of the entrance, running from whatever’s going on in the museum that’s getting noisy, and Nicky shoots them both down before they’re anywhere near Andy. She waves a hand in acknowledgment and jumps over their bodies to make her way inside.

He doesn’t see Joe, or hear him on comms. Nicky tries not to think about that until it’s all he can think about.

* * *

**6:12 AM**

Joe hates to leave Nile alone in the museum at the drop of a hat, but he knows she can handle herself, especially now that he’s left her his guns. He jogs across the street, heedless of the signal with no traffic to avoid, and across a dew-covered lawn. The moisture makes his shoes squeak as he crosses through the threshold of the old schoolhouse, a disorienting shift from old brick and ivy on the outside to polished marble floor and white walls inside, like the door was some kind of portal. He’s immediately on guard, hands itching for his sword. Screw blending in, next time he’s not leaving it in the trunk of the car.

“Andy, I’m in.” Joe says, hand on his ear piece.

“Good, take the stairs on the right. You remember Copley’s notes on those twins?” Andy asks.

“Yeah.” Joe says. She doesn’t need to say more. If it’s two on two they’ve never shied from getting straight to it. He tries not to think about how Andy shouldn’t be doing that now, at least part of her disguise is a bullet-proof vest.

He finds her crouched in the center of a circular reception desk that seems to serve both offices on this floor. On one side all the lights are off, on the other all the doors are taped off like they’re painting or fumigating inside. That’s the side Andy has her guns drawn on. She hands one of them to Joe as he crouches beside her and says, “They’ll be expecting us.” 

“Me first then.” Joe says, double-checking the gun, flicking the safety off.

“Yeah.” Andy says, not looking happy about it. 

They leave cover and cross to either side of the door closest to the front of the building, the door to the office the scouts will be posted up in. When Joe nods to her Andy moves and kicks it open, loud. She slides neatly out of the way for him to charge through, synchronized, fast. 

He takes a bullet to his left arm and keeps moving, firing back, ignoring how close that was to his heart. Nobody grunts in pain, a shame, they’ve ducked behind an overturned desk. Joe has to kick computer parts, picture frames, and a World’s Best Secretary mug out of the way to clear a path towards it, fearless with the familiar feeling of flattened metal dropping back out of his arm. 

He launches himself over the barrier, taking another hit, nastier this time at close range. Joe doesn’t think he’ll ever be prepared for it, the pain, after all this time. The last thing he sees before he dies is the shocked face behind a gun, shocked at Joe throwing his life away, shocked at Andy right behind him making use of the diversion to blow their brains out. The last thing he thinks about is Nicky. 

When Joe comes to the first thing he hears is the sounds of Andy and the remaining twin taking pot shots at each other from across the length of the room. He looks up at Andy from the floor - she must have dragged him back around the desk - and gasps his first breath loud enough to get her attention. 

“Fucking finally,” Andy says, “I’m almost out, give me your gun.”

Joe is a little surprised that it’s still in his hand but passes it over, gets himself upright, and peeks over the desk. The fancy opaque glass wall that once existed between this waiting room and what looks like a meeting room plus the boss’ office is shattered all over the floor, reduced down to a metal frame. Their remaining opponent is behind a second flipped desk, much bigger, close to the far wall where large windows offer a clear view of town hall and the museum across the street.

“Figured you’d think of a better distraction than just shooting, Boss.” Joe says, “Getting predictable in your old age?”

Andy snorts, looking him over with obvious relief as his wound completely closes up. “I’ve been timing her reloads; I was about to move in without you.”

“Glad I didn't miss the party.” Joe says. They both know he means he’s glad she’s not taking that risk. 

“Don’t forget to shout ‘Surprise’.” Andy quips back, the only warning before she's rolling out of cover, firing off two shots. Joe gets to his feet in a hurry and steps in front of her, moving forward almost before he feels her hand in the back of his shirt collar, crunching glass under his shoes. 

They come around either side of the makeshift barricade to find a woman shouting into her headset for backup, hands shaking as she tries to reload. She startles violently at seeing them so close and Joe can see her deliberate for half a second how she wants this to go down. Andy doesn’t give her the time to remember that they just killed her brother, she takes the shot. Joe ends up bloody again.

He’s scowling down at the stains on his clothes when Andy looks him up and down, and smiles. “Surprise.” She says. Joe pointedly does not laugh. Andy kicks the body over and removes the headset. She puts it on, listens for a second, takes it back off and smashes it under her heel. “They were working with Greg, that guy you gave a scar to? Nile’s got it covered though.”

“Yeah.” Joe agrees. “But she shouldn’t have to do it alone. I really hate that guy.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Andy says. “Why do they always send these two-bit thugs?”

“Everybody’s two-bit compared to you, boss. Seems like a clusterfuck. It wasn’t just Copley that leaked this intel.”

“What, you don’t think he masterminded this whole thing as a trap for us?”

“Nah, why give us all their dossiers if that was the plan?”

Nicky’s voice cuts into their discussion and it warms Joe to his core, even though the words themselves aren’t reassuring. 

“I’m making a move on the roof.” Nicky says. 

Andy reaches for her earpiece and opens her mouth to respond but all that comes out is a grunt. Joe looks up in alarm from where he’s crouched behind the desk, picking up where the woman left off reloading her gun. Andy’s right down beside him in the next instant, wincing, and Joe realizes she’s been shot. He pulls the blazer off of her, frantic to get a look, but there’s no blood. 

“I didn’t see him, must have come in from the other offices.” Andy hisses through gritted teeth. “Fuck! Even with the vest that hurts like a motherfucker!”

They both go quiet, listening for footsteps on broken glass, but instead they hear a noisy truck come gunning down the road. They turn to watch, taking advantage of the scout’s post, the boss’ big windows. The truck stops in the town hall parking lot, looking fresh off the lot and enormous, towing a flatbed trailer that definitely has enough space for the meteorite. Six guys climb out, leaving all four doors open, the textbook definition of armed and dangerous. 

Joe and Andy exchange a glance. He says it so she doesn’t have to, “You have to go help Nile. I’ll buy you time to get out of here and take out the scout, but you have to go. Nicky isn’t in position yet or he’d have tipped us off.”

Andy looks grim but nods, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get this over with.”

They leave the remains of the office the same way they came in, except that now they both have loaded guns. As they move forward, slow, from cover to cover, Andy whispers, “If Copley really did give us _all_ their dossiers, this has to be that other guy, the one Nile said looked boring.”

“It’s always the boring ones.” Joe agrees. They’ve almost made it to the doorway with no sign of him. Walking through it is definitely a trap but it’s one they’re choosing to fall into. Still, Joe can’t help but tense up when Andy gives him the signal, tapping his shoulder twice. 

The second Joe’s gun crosses the threshold there’s a knife slicing at his wrist, forcing him to drop it. A second knife catches him across the collarbone as he twists and moves towards his attacker, giving Andy space to squeeze between him and the doorframe to make a break for it. She does, shoes squeaking, leaving a trail of blood. 

It’s the boring guy alright, except he looks a little too delighted by this turn of events to be boring after all. 

Joe realizes he’s lost his hat somewhere, his shirt is sliced open and covered in blood, and he’s unarmed. Something in his expression still makes the guy take a step back, knives out between them, but then he makes the same series of observations and smiles. Joe hates when they smile.

He tackles the guy at the waist and before they even hit the marble floors he feels both knives stick in below his shoulder blades. The pain is blinding, motivating. Joe screams but he rolls off the guy and pulls a knife out of his own back while he does it, stabbing him deep in the thigh before he can scramble back to his feet. 

They separate gracelessly, both of them bleeding now, gritting their teeth on snarls. Joe stands first and manages to pull the other knife out of his back just as the guy pulls a gun on him. He freezes.

“I was told this job would be easy.” The guy says, because of course he’s a monologuer. He incorrectly assumes that Joe is frozen because he knows he’s outgunned, that he’s doing what the guy wants. Really Joe’s just trying to slow his breathing, bide his time while his wounds close. It’s nice when you’re fighting someone who calls a timeout, but, oh god, he’s still talking. “-didn’t say anything about a pack of wild dogs like you. Now, if you want to live, you’ll let me walk out of here.”

“I’m really more of a cat.” Joe says, then he throws the knife. The guy shoots him. The knife sticks deep into the guy’s throat and he collapses backwards with a terrible gurgling sound. Joe doesn’t hear it because he’s been shot in the head. His last thought before he dies this time is unfortunately not of Nicky, he’s just wondering why this idiot chose to talk instead of shooting him immediately. Andy’s right, they are two-bit. 

When he comes to, Joe coughs, spits blood, and says, “A few more than nine lives though.”

* * *

**6:12 AM**

Keeping her eyes on the guy who is now obviously pretending to be on the phone, like she can’t see his outdated as shit headset, Nile backs up towards the front desk again. She loops one arm through a backpack strap, keeping it in front of her, handy in case she needs to reach inside. Even though it wasn’t long ago that she was arguing that Andy needed backup more, Nile wasn’t expecting to be left alone like this. 

“Hey Emrys?” Nile asks when she gets close, not turning away from the man, faking a casual tone, “What was that code for the bathroom again?”

“1-2-3-4.” Emrys replies, glancing away from their game of solitaire. That isn’t really a sequence of numbers Nile should have forgotten so quickly. That plus her weird body language leads Emrys to sound extra concerned when they add, “Are you okay? Where’d your friend go?”

“I’m fine, thanks. He had to go, his uh, his husband called.” Nile makes her way over to the bathroom door, pretending to enter the code. She raises her voice, watching to see if this exchange is drawing the man’s attention but so far lucking out. “This isn’t working, could you try?”

Emrys walks over slowly, wary, but taking Nile’s continued awkwardness in stride. They get the door open on the first try, turning back to say, “There you go.” 

“Sorry about this.” Nile replies, shoving Emrys into the room hard enough that they fall over. Nile tries not to think about the fear in their eyes, just slams the door closed, pulls out Joe’s shotgun from the backpack and smashes the butt of it hard against the electronic lock until sparks fly out of it. “You probably don’t believe me, but I’m here to protect your local history.” 

Emrys either doesn’t hear that through the door or chooses not to reply, Nile isn’t sure which is worse. When she turns around she realizes why the big guy hasn’t been paying her any attention, he’s doing something to the meteorite. 

She fires off a shot towards the floor in his general direction, making him jump and drop his phone. It shatters instantly on the concrete floor but he doesn’t spare it a glance, he’s busy drawing his gun on Nile in return. 

“Listen man, you don’t want to test me. Step away from the rock and get out of here, or it’s gonna get ugly.” Nile says. 

“I saw who you were with.” The guy says, watching her circle wide around some display cases, keeping his gun on her. “ _You_ should get out of here and find better friends!” 

“Listen Greg, Joe told me all about you. You want to tell me your side of the story?” Nile asks, curious despite herself. Her aim wavers for a second and she has to dive away from a shot fired. It hits a tractor engine behind her, the sound is a sharp metallic ricochet she doesn't let distract her. This is a tense situation but she still wants to know more about the others. The chance for an outside perspective, from someone that isn’t Copley, is too good to pass up. 

“Joe? I know Yusuf, if they are the same man.” The guy says. Nile keeps circling, seeing if he’ll make a mistake. “He is the one who gave me this scar.” He turns his head, letting her see, and she takes the shot. Greg ducks and it goes wide, hitting the wall behind the meteorite. 

“Sounds like he really hated you, what’d you do to him?” Nile asks, egging him on.

“I told him he did not deserve what he had. He agreed with me! But he did not like it when I tried to take it.” 

“What he…” Nile stops, ducking behind a mannequin wearing some kind of period clothes, so she can relax her arms for a second and laugh. “You mean Nicky?” 

“Yes, Nicky!” 

“Listen Scarface, Joe doesn’t have Nicky. If anything they have each other.” 

“My name is Greg!” He shouts. Getting him worked up is way too easy. “They’ll never work out, they’re too different.” 

Nile has to stop again, nearly breathless with laughter, crouching low behind another display case. She’s been moving closer to Greg slowly, he doesn’t seem to have noticed or cared. Being laughed at really ticks him off, he swings his gun wide shouting, “Nicky wouldn’t let Yusuf kill me! He’s a beautiful man, full of kindness! After I kill Yusuf he’ll come to his senses, he’ll-”

During this rant Nile gets in close enough to knock Greg’s gun aside and shoot him right in the chest, no hesitation. “Sorry Greg, your delusions were kinda fun but if you killed Joe you’d see what Nicky looks like when he decides death is a kindness.”

Nile drops his body unceremoniously to the cement floor and freezes as the loud rumbling of a truck engine gets close enough to the other side of the museum wall that she can hear it. Taking cover behind the meteorite she grabs Greg’s gun off the floor and aims both weapons at the back door. 

The first two goons that come racing through it go down fast, slowing the entrance of the four behind them. The chaos that follows consists of a lot of shouting, asking for orders that don’t seem to come. Nile backs up towards the bathroom again along the wall, continuing to fire. She gets hit a few times but stays on her feet, enjoying the way the men’s shouting dissolves almost exclusively into “Holy shit!”. 

They press forward as she moves back, two of them stop behind the meteorite leaving the other two hanging out to dry. It isn’t long before those two make a run for the front door, tired of getting grazed by Nile’s shots. She lets them go, more concerned about guarding Emrys and the rock, they can be somebody else’s problem. She doesn’t have a spare hand to ask over comms but she hopes backup is on its way or she’s gonna have to do something really dumb. Not as dumb as last time, there’s only one floor on this building afterall. She’ll think of something.

* * *

**6:32 AM**

Racing down the stairs and out of the old schoolhouse, Andy wonders how everything’s gone to hell. It can’t just be that they’re lacking Booker or they didn’t have enough time to prepare, she’s gone half-cocked into more dangerous situations before, all on her own. They’re spread across the main street intersection like they’re playing tic-tac-toe but even that shouldn’t be enough to have caused all this mayhem. Joe’s right, it’s a clusterfuck by somebody’s design, she just hopes they can settle things fast, before this sleepy little town wakes up. 

Andy watches the double doors of the museum burst open, but before she can raise her gun the two men who rush through them are falling lifeless onto the parking lot. She doesn’t need to look to know Nicky’s in position across the street, just waves and keeps running. 

The scene inside the museum is more orderly than Andy expected. Not that she doubts Nile’s training or abilities, but there’s only so much cover to be had and Andy assumed Nile would mainly be protecting the civilian. She counts two bodies on the floor near the backdoor, two live ones near the rock, and Nile, but that's it.

“Hey, where’s your girlfriend?” Andy asks, conversationally but loud enough that she gets shot at and has to duck behind the front desk. 

“That’s not right for multiple reasons.” Nile says. She lays down covering fire for Andy to join her behind a display case of farming tools. The glass has been shot out but the base is holding, it’s large enough that there’s a whole plow in there, several other things hanging above it from wires. 

“If you mean Emrys, the grad student, I locked them in the bathroom.” Nile adds, pointing over her shoulder with a thumb. “Any idea how many more of these guys there are? I killed Greg - after he talked my ear off about Nicky, very weird dude, maybe racist? - and then got two of these idiots when they just walked right in the back door.” 

“I got two across the street, Joe’s there handling the third. Nicky must have managed with whoever was at the library, he sniped two more making their escape from your little killing floor here.” Andy reports, taking aim across the room before she remembers that they probably shouldn’t be shooting the valuable rock they’re all here for. That must be why the cowards are hiding behind it. “Been awhile since I’ve been in a standoff.” 

“Like riding a bike, boss?” Nile quips, wiping sweat off her brow. 

“Sure.” Andy says, “Let’s say I know how to do that.” 

“You don’t!?” Nile asks, incredulous. 

Andy ignores her to check in with the others, raising a hand to her ear. “Nicky, got eyes on back-up?” 

“None coming.” Nicky replies, promptly, “There’s some movement down in the cornfield but they’re arguing for now.”

“Great.” Andy says. “Clean up at the library then and see if you can convince them to walk away.” 

“Yes boss.” Nicky says. He hesitates, then adds, “Joe?” 

“He’ll be fine, Nicky. Meet back here when you’re done.” 

“Yes boss.” Nicky repeats. 

“So what’s the play?” Nile asks, refocusing on the guys who think they’re being sneaky, pulling various ropes and straps out of a backpack. Do they really think they can carry that rock out of here by themselves? Do they really think Nile’s going to let them?

Andy reaches up into the display case, pulling a knife out of thin air, and cuts a scythe free of the wire it’s hanging from. 

“Really?” Nile asks.

“Why not?” 

“It’s ancient.”

“So am I, kid.” Andy says, giving it a practice swing and then nodding towards the rock. “Let’s go.” 

“Wait, Andy, stop. We can be smarter than this.” 

Andy looks impatient but gestures for her to go on. 

“Sneak around through the back, I’ll distract them and then you can chop their heads off or whatever your grim reaper plan was.”

Andy blinks and a slow smile grows on her face. “Good plan. I’ll wait for your signal.” She hefts the scythe by the handles and stays low, jogging out the front door soundlessly. 

It’s way too easy after that. Nile stands up, shoots out one of the only remaining in-tact glass cases, and shouts “Hey, assholes! Any last words?” They shoot at her, predictable, but Andy had already moved in through the back door after the glass shattered. She sweeps the legs out from one, letting Nile finish him off. Ducking a shot from the other, Andy moves like maybe she will decapitate him, but the blade isn’t sharp enough. She ends up kicking him in the chest for enough leverage to separate the blunt blade from his neck. Nile shoots that guy too, for his own sake. 

Suddenly it’s quiet, just the top of them catching their breath. Andy drops the scythe on the floor, wincing when the wooden handle splits in two. Nile drops herself, sitting down hard and leaning back against the rock to count the bullet holes in her tank top. 

She looks around the museum, littered with bodies, guns, and shell casings and says, “Now what?”


	4. Whirlaway

Andy’s on the phone with Copley, arguing about clean-up options, when Joe walks back into the museum looking like an extra in a zombie film. 

“Hey,” He says, taking in the controlled destruction, “Have fun?” 

“Did you?” Nile says, pulling a face. “You’ve got blood on your… everything.” 

“Ha ha, like you’re any better.” 

“I didn't die though.” Nile says, crossing her arms. Neither of them mention that she’s still sitting on the floor, still holding a gun.

“Good for you.” Joe says, like he’s commenting on her report card and she got straight A’s. “Andy’s unhurt?”

“She’s fine, pissed off the job went south even though _apparently_ she knew it would from the beginning.” 

“Six thousand years gives you good instincts, if nothing else.” He glances around, antsy and hiding it poorly, “Nicky?”

“Tying up a loose end in the cornfield out back.”

Andy hangs up the phone and walks over to them. “Hey, Joe, “ she says, “What took you so long? We’re gonna use the goon squad’s shit for transporting the rock to bring the bodies back to the airport. Contractors will handle the rest of this mess.”

“Ok boss. No word from Nicky?”

“He’s fine, haven’t heard gunfire. Just bring the tarp in here will you?” Andy says, trying to keep him focused.

“Sure.” Joe says, halfway to the backdoor before he turns back and asks, “Hey, what about Emrys?”

“Still in the bathroom. The camera you stuck in there shows them passed out.” Nile tells him.

“I’d panic in there too.” Joe says, continuing on his way.

“They’ll panic again if we wake them now.” Andy argues, gesturing to the bodies emphatically. Nile takes the hint and moves to stand up, dropping the gun to take Andy’s hand when it appears in front of her to help.

* * *

Nicky first sees Joe from behind. The back of his shirt is torn open and bloody in two places and, though the wounds have healed, it looks for all the world like Joe’s an angel who’s had his wings ripped off. 

He moves closer like he’s drawn in by magnets, by gravity, some law of motion all their own. Joe catches sight of him and turns, smiling in that way of his that brings out all his laugh lines. 

“Hey Nicky, how was the library?” Joe asks. There’s blood on his face. “Did it smell nice? Like old books?”

“Joe.” Is all Nicky can say. He drops his sword so he can grab Joe with both hands, pull him close. They go stumbling up against the side of the museum, Joe’s face tucking into his neck and shoulder like it always does, like it belongs there. 

Nicky’s still tense, shaking a little, can feel the way Joe is rubbing down along his spine like he’s the one who needs comfort. Maybe he is. They’re in their own little world, holding each other. When Nicky has it together enough to pull back a little he doesn’t go far, just shifts and slants his mouth over Joe’s, kissing him. Needing to kiss him. 

When they break apart, Joe brings his hands up, pushing the hood off his head, framing Nicky’s face in his palms and studying what he sees there. “You okay?” 

“Better now.” Nicky admits. Joe’s lower lip is still calling to him but he waits, letting Joe initiate another kiss, and another.

“Have to use your sword on the children of the corn, or what?”

“No, I only spoke to them. Not as good a speech as you would have given, but convincing enough.”

“Oh, my heart. You did kill their leader.”

“I did. He killed the librarian. She was young, Joe.”

“I’m sorry, Nicky. What was her name?” 

“Sophie.” 

“Nile saved the archivist.”

“That’s good. And the rock?”

“Yeah, Nicky, the rock too.”

* * *

Nile gently shakes Emrys awake and backs up out of the room again, leaving the door open, trying to be non-threatening. They had to break the lock completely off the door to get it open at all, she’s not sure it can be closed anymore. 

Emrys looks scared but doesn’t say anything or look away from Nile. 

“Hey, so. It’s all over.” Nile says, crossing her arms, uncrossing them when that feels aggressive and holding her hands up instead. “You won’t get in trouble for this mess, it should be fixed by tomorrow.”

“You’re letting me go?” Emrys asks, surprised. They don’t seem to care too much about their pseudo-employment status at this moment. Nile can’t blame them. 

“If you can forget you saw us we won’t just let you go, we’ll pay off your student loans.” Nile says, keeping it straightforward. 

Emrys nods, slowly, and asks, “Can I go… now?” 

“Yeah. I’ll take you out to your car.” 

Nile gives Emrys space, letting them out of the bathroom and over to the front desk to gather their phone and other stuff on their own time. Andy’s out with the truck on the other side of the building, tying the tarp full of bodies down to the flatbed trailer. Seeing Emrys’ eyes widen as they glance around, Nile takes a second look. To her the room looks more like the aftermath of a robbery than a firefight. The meteorite is one of the only objects untouched, like it landed and sent off an aftershock through the rest of the space, breaking all the glass. 

As Emrys and Nile head outside they catch sight of Nicky and Joe up against the outside wall. Even mostly concealed by Nicky’s body, the parts of Joe that are visible make it clear he’s been through some shit.

Some of the color is returning to Emrys’ face, they give Nile a mistrustful look and say, “His husband called, huh?” 

“Yeah. Well. Kind of?” Nile shrugs, stopping again at a safe distance from Emrys as they unlock their car. “Can I tell my boss you’ll forget about us?” 

“What other answer could I possibly give you right now.” Emrys says, but it’s not a question. They reach up to rub at their eyes, remember halfway that they’ve got makeup on, and plant that hand firmly on the top of their car instead. “Yeah. I won’t say no to your money either. But I’m getting out of here, and I won’t take the fall.” 

“Not asking you to.” Nile says. They exchange nods and Emrys gets in their car, driving off slow, obeying the traffic light for a long minute even though there’s no one around. Nile watches them go and feels Joe and Nicky walk up behind her, quietly supportive. She turns to them and they all go to Andy together.

Andy has the plan. She’s hanging out of the driver’s side seat of the truck waiting for them and issues orders when they come around the building towards town hall where it’s parked. 

“Nicky and Joe, get the bodies out of the old schoolhouse, like Copenhagen ‘87.” 

Joe tosses off a lazy salute, Nicky just nods.

“Nile and I will bring the truck over to you then I’ll go get the car, meet you at the airport. Someone else will take it from there.”

“Someone?” Nile asks, not sure she wants to know.

“Someone willing to take their guys back, someone paying to cover up their mistake. We won’t stick around.” Andy says.

“Hold on.” Nile says, remembering. “What about the guy at the library?”

“Dante?” Andy says, sighing like this is taking too long, “Nicky handled it.” 

“I dropped him off the roof.” Nicky confirms. “The cops will think this is the cause of his broken neck. Only his prints are in the building, they’ll rule it murder-suicide.”

“Not great for keeping this a secret.” Nile says, but Andy is sighing again and saying, “Get in the truck already. Actual professionals are coming to fix the property damage here and across the street, we have to keep moving. This town will mourn the librarian but never suspect it was part of something bigger.” 

They get in the truck. They collect the other bodies and meet back at the airport. Nile helps with these actions like she’s watching somebody else do them with her body. It’s all coming crashing down, wondering if this was worth it. At least they kept Emrys safe.

“Hey Nicky,” Nile says, burrowed in her puffy black coat and leaning up against the Subaru, even though it’s way too hot for it already, “Last time we were here, did we forget a bag on the plane?” 

“You counted huh? No, it was full of cash, payment for our ride.” Nicky says. 

“Oh. So there’s another bag full of cash for the ride back?” 

“Yes, in the Jeep. You planning to make a run for it?” 

Nile shoots him a look. “You’d let me?” 

“Sure.” Nicky says, “If you needed time apart from us already I would be a little sad, but Booker used to do it. Just, disappear for a while.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind I guess.” 

* * *

The car ride back to the B&B is mainly silent, broken up by an occasional question and answer, a disjointed mission debrief fueled by the unspoken knowledge that they’re all thinking about getting clean and going back to bed. 

“Why didn’t the cops show?” Joe asks.

“ _Somebody_ gave a bunch of local kids fireworks. They’ve been setting them off all at hours for the past week. Nobody noticed the gunfire.” Andy explains. “I asked Copley the same question.”

“Dante’s team really just walked away?” Nile asks Nicky, turning around from her spot in shotgun. 

“I gave them a choice.” Nick says. He doesn’t seem to think it requires more explanation than that. Nile supposes it doesn’t. She wouldn’t press him right now anyway, he’s leaning his head against Joe’s, eyes closed, breathing a little too steady like he’s doing it consciously. 

“Did you tell them about Greg?” Andy asks, something mischievous in her smile. 

“Fuck that guy.” Joe grumbles, halfway asleep in a way that kind of ruins the viciousness he’s clearly going for. Nicky shushes him. 

“I’ll tell them later, if they ever finish telling me their story.” Nile says. 

“A fair trade.” Nicky replies. They all go quiet again, quiet enough that the vibration of Andy’s phone getting a text message sounds loud. 

Nile checks it without asking. “Huh.”

“What is it?” Andy asks, glancing away from the road momentarily. 

“I didn't know Copley could be funny. He sent us an invitation to a symposium focused on the meteorite, happening at the museum in a month.” Nile bites the inside of her cheek looking down at the mocked up flyer. It’s terrible. Graphic design is not his strong suit. 

“I’d like to RSVP ‘No’, right now.” Joe mumbles. Andy nods. They keep driving. 

As they pull into the B&B, Andy glances at them each in turn and says, “Shit. Mrs. Szypszak isn’t going to let any of us in if she sees us.”

“She’s not here.” Nile says, pointing.

“How do you…” Andy trails off, spotting the note taped to the front door. They can’t read it from here but it wouldn’t make sense to leave one if she was inside. Her car is gone too. Andy must be just as tired as Nile feels. 

“Alright, let’s hurry. Regroup… later. Shit, I can already feel the bruising.” 

“Get used to it, boss.” Joe says, humorless. 

The note on the front door says, “Inspired to hike! See you all later, help yourselves to scones in the oven.”

There’s a second note that says the same thing on the kitchen table, probably meant for Nicky and Joe, but no one stops to read it. They troop up the stairs into their separate rooms.

* * *

Nicky seems to shake off whatever lethargy he was feeling on the car ride as soon as the door closes behind him. He’s reaching for Joe again, giving in to the pull, the edge of desperation he felt before.

“Hey, hey, I’m here, I’m f-“ Joe starts to say, reassuring.

“Strip.” Nicky demands, already kicking his shoes off, unzipping his hoodie.

Joe does it, faster than Nicky because he’s got less layers and what he does have is practically falling off him already. The shirt he should have taken off in the car, it’s just scraps hanging off at weird angles, reminding them both of the beating he took. Nicky pauses after getting his socks off, down to his jeans, and looks. 

Joe is fine. Nicky wouldn’t let him say it earlier but he can see for himself now that it’s true. He’s beautiful. He’s standing there in the morning light, just breathing, letting Nicky look at him, patient, unfairly beautiful. 

Nicky reaches forward and places a hand in the middle of his chest, feeling for himself. Joe chuckles, low, and gently moves Nicky’s hand over his heart. Then he’s stepping closer, helping himself to the button on Nicky’s jeans, the zipper. He pushes Nicky’s pants down along with his underwear, gentle but firm. Nicky only lifts his hand off Joe’s skin so they don’t both fall over.

Nicky’s not sure how it happened but Joe’s pushing him into the shower. He planned to do that, had needed to do it from the second he set eyes on him back in the parking lot. The evidence of his wounds, his deaths, wasn’t as gruesome as it was jarring. It has been a while since Nicky wasn’t there to see the violence himself, since he had to piece it together from the aftermath. Someone tried to cut their way through Joe to get to Andy. It was a roadmap to his greatest fears. The terror had echoed so loud in his head that he felt his hands go cold. 

Joe’s hands are warm on his hips, pressing him up against the tiled wall of the shower and turning away to get the water running. It takes a second, although by this point they must have encountered every possible option for turning on a shower. It takes too long, Nicky has to reach for him again. He curls a hand around Joe’s upper arm, feeling the strength of it, the muscle.

Whatever Joe sees in his eyes when he turns to look at him, he gives Nicky his full attention again, abandoning the faucet and pressing close, kissing him, holding his face, stroking a thumb along his cheekbone, kissing him. Nicky gets both hands in his hair and holds him there when they have to break apart to breathe, keeping their foreheads together. Joe understands, stepping closer, getting a leg between Nicky’s and grinding him back into the wall. Nicky doesn’t recognize the sound that comes out of him.

“Babe, I have to get the blood out of my hair. After that, whatever you want.” Joe says, calming, like he isn’t the one who escalated this. Like he isn’t still flexing his thigh for the pleasure of watching Nicky ride it. 

Nicky looks at him and says, “I want to eat you out, and then I want to fuck you.” 

Joe looks back and grins, sappy like Nicky said something sweet and not filthy. “You gonna last long enough for that?”

“Who says I have to?”

“Not me, cuore mio, not me. I love to see you spill.” Joe says, eyes dark. He looks back at the faucet for a second too long, without making a move towards it, and Nicky stops grinding into him. He reaches up to touch Joe’s face, to push curls off of his forehead. 

“What is it?”

“Is it okay if I take a rain check?”

“Of course, Joe. You know that.”

“I do. I hate to say no to your lovely mouth.” Joe says, finally looking back at him, “But, I’m tired, Nicky.”

“Then we should sleep. Clean your hair, then sleep.”

“Jerk you off, clean my hair, then sleep?” Joe suggests, reaching for Nicky, who can only nod, watching Joe’s hand curl around him with open-mouthed pleasure. 

A moment later he’s pushing him away again, insisting, “Turn on the shower first, Joe, Christ, what are we doing.”

* * *

While Nile is in the shower she realizes Emrys isn’t really a grad student. The pieces fit together while she’s not thinking about them, humming Frank Ocean’s cover of Moon River under her breath. 

It’s the way Emrys said, “You’re letting me go?”, their relatively calm demeanor throughout except for conveniently passing out, the way they pretended Greg wasn’t in the room. Their game of solitaire could have been a fake window, covering something else. They didn’t comment on Joe taking the backpack into the bathroom either, which Nile originally took as politeness or a trans-inclusive mindset that would accept, without comment, that someone who looks like Joe might need a tampon. Within the pattern of events though, it looks more suspicious. 

Nile isn’t thinking seriously about it, she’s more focused on getting clean, and then she remembers the dossier from Copley she dismissed the night before, when she wondered why an extraction team would need a hacker on a job with no security cameras. The hacker’s alias was W1ZARD. 

As hot water relaxes the muscles in her back, Nile thinks about the Edward Burne-Jones piece she never liked, _The Beguiling of Merlin_. It would fit in with Mrs. Szypszak’s eclectic taste, that’s for sure. She’s really not sure why she’s thinking about it at first, but then the jump from Wizard to Merlin to Emrys happens all at once, dots connecting. Convincing herself that she has to get out of the shower to tell Andy takes much longer.

When she does, Andy agrees they can’t do anything about it until they’re well rested, except let Copley know. He says he can try to get in contact but not to hold their breath. So, they sleep. Or, try to, with how bright out it is. Nile thinks she’s just going to give up and go eat some of Mrs. Szypszak’s scones when they get a text from Nicky, asking for a favor. 

* * *

Joe jolts awake to the image of Nicky falling off a roof and not getting back up again. Nicky, still mostly asleep, squeezes Joe’s hand and mutters something reassuring. Joe doesn’t have time to fully relax before he feels someone moving on the bed behind him. It’s Andy. 

“The security in this place is shit.” Joe whispers. 

Andy laughs, rolling towards him so he’s properly sandwiched. “You say that like Nicky didn’t almost shoot us for opening the door, even though he asked us to come.” Her hand brushes against his shoulder blade for a moment, gentle.

Joe raises his head at ‘us’ and spies Nile curled up on the squeaky loveseat, fast asleep. He feels warm all over, surrounded like this. He sleeps.

* * *

After their team nap, Andy and Nile decide to actually go for a hike. It’s late afternoon, they stop by a local deli for sandwiches and snacks and plan on a picnic. 

The drive out is so scenic it’s unreal, it takes the burn of her muscles up the steeper parts of the trail for Nile to feel grounded again. The view from the top is even better, the sky bluer than she remembers seeing it, the farmland stretching out beyond the river in checkers of various greens. Nile takes a bunch of photos on her phone with all the other tourists, sneaking one of Andy too, standing off to the side with her hands on her hips. It comes out looking like an ad for sports wear. 

After a while Nile finds a rocky outcropping with less foot traffic, probably because the view is obstructed by low hanging branches. She sits and dangles her legs off the side, just watching the birds, waiting to be hungry. Eventually Andy comes and sits beside her. 

“Are you here to give me a pep talk?” Nile asks.

“I don't know, you didn’t like my last one much.” Andy says. She laughs, self-deprecating, and turns to look at Nile with an expression that says ‘I’m listening’ better than words could. It was eye opening the first time she saw how much Andy cares about people, about _her_ people especially. They’re all softies, she isn’t sure why Andy’s softness surprises her still. 

“I’m still scared.” Nile admits, looking back out into the trees, “The world is so big and I don't have an excuse not to see it all anymore.”

“Yes you do, you’re temporarily unkillable, not superhuman. We can’t be everywhere at once.” Andy argues.

“But... you’ve been everywhere, at some point.” Nile says.

“Maybe, I don't know, I wasn't really keeping track.” Andy insists, like she hasn’t seen entire nations live and die.

“My point is, if I’m scared to do all this now, with you, with Nicky and Joe, what happens when I’m alone?”

“Oh, Nile.” Andy says, and she goes quiet for a second, thinking. When she stands up and offers a hand, Nile takes it, standing too. “You know, after me, you’re gonna have to step up. It can’t be Booker after what he pulled, even if they do let him back into the fold early. It can’t be Joe or Nicky either, one of them can’t be above the other that way, they don’t work like that.” Andy leads the way back past all the selfie-takers and over towards the picnic area. 

“So, what?” Nile says, stopping suddenly as she catches on, “You’re training me to take over? How do you know they’ll accept that?”

“I know them. They’ll be begging you to do it, to let them fight for you.” 

When Andy looks back at her and says that, Nile suddenly spies a shock of bubblegum pink over her shoulder. It’s Emrys, from the museum, the ‘grad student’, their loose end. Nile assumed they’d never see them again, but there they are, waving from a picnic table. Nile puts a hand on Andy’s shoulder and says, “Emrys is sitting right over there, are we going?”

Andy says, “What do you think?”

They go, acting casual, but Nile sees Andy pull a gun out of the bag with their sandwiches, pointing it at Emrys under the table. 

“Listen, I’m not interested in staying on your bad side.” Emrys says, glancing between them, “I knew you’d figure out I was involved eventually. I have information you want and I’m willing to trade it for my life.” 

Andy says, “What information is that?”

“I know who leaked the report about the worth of the meteorite, I know how to erase any record of your being there this morning, and... I thought you might want to know, your man Booker is about to be caught stealing rare books. I know where and I know why.” They shrug and turn to face the vista. Nile thinks Emrys looks young, scared, and then remembers she’s the same age as them. Or, she was. She will be again some day.

Nile turns to Andy, but Andy’s already looking at her, nodding, encouraging her to take the lead on this one. 

“Yeah,” Nile says, “You’re gonna tell us everything.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! I can't explain a single thing about this, only that I’ve been in a fugue state writing it for a week. If at any point you thought “that doesn’t work like that” while reading, you’re probably right. If you thought "hey, I think I know this place", keep it secret keep it safe. Finally, if you thought 'nicky and joe deserve a porny epilogue, they are good people who suffered enough", you're definitely right and I'll post it tomorrow. 
> 
> Thank you to my beta and close good friend @herocomplex for everything, including not letting me put a live animal on the plane, although I imagine you were equally unhappy with my idea of compromise.


End file.
